Toby's Inferno
by modestlobster
Summary: Toby finds himself wandering around in a strange world with the President, the Devil, and some friends. (Variation on Dante's Inferno.)


Disclaimer: Aaron Sorkin owns the characters. Any products mentioned belong to their respective owners. The Inferno was written by Dante Alighieri and I've borrowed the concepts for this story. I suggest you read the Inferno sometime if you haven't already, but you don't have to have previous knowledge of the work for this to make sense.   
  
"Toby, what are you doing?"   
"Nothing. I'm busy."   
"Busy... Doing nothing..."   
"Just leave before I hurt you."   
"Ok, but before I do, I'd like to let you know that I saw the mirror and I'm willing to spread rumors."   
"Josh, I promise, if you don't get out..."   
"Don't make promises you can't keep. What were you doing?"   
"Seeing how the Rogaine was working."   
"Bald is beautiful, but seriously, what were you doing before I so rudely interrupted?"   
"Practicing."   
"Practicing? You?"   
"Yes, Josh. Me. I'm surprised that you haven't learned from your miserably failed attempts that you can't always jump into the damn cement wall head-first without some preparation."   
"Momma always said I had a good head on my shoulders."   
"No, not 'good'. Just large."   
"Thanks Toby."   
"Get out of my office."   
"So what fish are you out to fry that you need to practice for?"   
"The President."   
"Whoa, slow down."   
"I'm not running anywhere."   
"Yah, but the President? Are you really expecting the prize bass on a plaque?"   
"I've done stuff like this before. Stop with the fish analogies."   
"You've been practicing, so you must really be going out for some deep-sea f-"   
"Josh."   
"-Debating. What have you got?"   
"Something good."   
"Wait... You don't mean..."   
"Yes. Now get out."   
"I thought he was already set on that. Hook, line, and sinker in neutral."   
"I'm going to change his mind. Stop with the damn fishing talk."   
"I don't think that's a good idea. In any perspective."   
"It's the right idea."   
"It's not good."   
"It's beneficial in ways no one has considered it. It is good."   
- - - - - - - - -   
"Go home and sleep on it."   
The damn phrase kept coming up. Why was everyone telling me that? Apparently they think I'm wrong. I thought Leo would at least agree with me. Maybe I'm so right that they don't understand. They clearly don't understand. Or maybe they're scared. But right now I don't have the patience to walk them through it, so I've pretended to listen to them. And now I'm at home and I'm going to 'sleep on it'.   
- - - - - - - - -   
I found myself in a darkened wood   
On a clearly unmarked trail.   
I looked around from where I stood,   
  
And before me, just waiting, a leopard and lion - both male.   
Leopard of Data Enhancement; Lion of Corruption and Anarchy;   
And the She-Wolf of Greed and Influence viciously flicking her tail.   
  
They would not let me pass, nor let me be,   
Until, far-off, a light glowing wan -   
As if intending to protect - made my offense recede.   
  
I soon could tell the shade of a man,   
And although his purpose I not could tell,   
He frightened my oppressors and off they ran.   
  
He said, "Son, here, let us not dwell."   
And after revealing his familiar face,   
Off into adventure we soon fell.   
  
"Mr. President," I began as we settled on a pace,   
"What are we doing? Why are you here?"   
His response: "I am your guide through this time and space."   
  
"So are you like Virgil, whom Dante held dear?"   
"I am no such fiend, not such a crook.   
But I WAS sent by your Beatrice to make your path clear."   
  
"MY Beatrice..." I pondered. "So this place goes by the book?"   
"It is of your own doing and we just take part."   
I realize it is a dream in which I am hooked.   
  
He spoke: "We'll go much faster, the sooner we start."   
And so we walked down to a bustling shore   
Where confusion soon found way to my heart.   
  
"Toby, relax - just a couple steps more.   
We'll find Leo down here - he'll take us across,   
And presently we'll be at the next door."   
  
"I'm sorry sir, but he's not permitted to cross."   
Leo pointed out a sign that just simply read:   
'ONLY EVIL AND DEAD PASS HERE' and was signed by 'The Boss'.   
  
President Bartlet looked at Leo angrily, and then shook his head.   
"Well, you know sir, I guess he can come..."   
I was about to thank Leo, but my knees buckled instead.   
  
When I finally awoke after feeling quite dumb,   
I saw in the distance the gate of this plane.   
Bartlet spoke: "Outside are the Indecisive - a group full of bums.   
  
Things never voted on is their torment and pain.   
It's best not to disrupt the eternal plight of these men."   
As we went to the gate, their cries seemed to wane.   
  
"Inside is a series of circles - one less than ten."   
"What happens then - when we reach the end?"   
"There, deep in this Hell, is the Devil's own den."   
  
'HEER IS THE RELM OF POLITIKS AND TO THOSE WHO DON'T MEND',   
I read off the sign that sat beside the gate,   
'YOR WAYS WILL MAKE YOR MIND SUFFER - YOR BODY THEY REND.'   
  
The two of us entered, I weary of my fate.   
We passed first by Limbo, then to Circle One   
Where the unaffiliated found there was consequence, but found out too late.   
  
In the second circle, the misdeeds that circled and spun   
Were of politicians who had lovers and to their wives were untrue.   
They were looking for solace, from the President and I they found none.   
  
The notable thing - my attention he drew -   
Was Cerberus who sat guarding Circle Three -   
The longer I watched, the bigger he grew.   
  
The next circle of souls thought their money grew on a tree.   
They were ones whom the She-Wolf had caught -   
They squandered things away as if they were free.   
  
The fifth group were people of a rebellious lot,   
And the Sixth Circle held the plan of this Hell   
And was also the home where the Heretics rot.   
  
In the Seventh from the murderers you could smell   
The blood of assassinations on their hands.   
The President urged me on, but I was a hard one to sell.   
  
Also on that level, in numerous bands   
Were men publicly violent to themselves and others:   
The racist, the usurers, and those who desecrated American lands.   
  
The eighth level were many misled sisters and brothers:   
Flatterers, hypocrites, those who deceive,   
The fraudulent, the falsifiers - I felt bad for their mothers.   
  
The President said, right before we did leave:   
"See if you find number 37 from my line of work   
In with the scandal, the schism, and thieves."   
  
We proceeded to the bank of the Ninth Circle which was shrouded in murk.   
The coldness enveloping held like a vice,   
And the fear of bodily harm was still hard to shirk.   
  
"Be careful now and listen because I won't say it twice:   
This is the deepest Hell goes and the Devil is trapped herein."   
It was then that I pointed out and asked about a track worn in the ice.   
  
"Non-Catholic headmaster - A traitor to his kin."   
I expected an explanation, but he said not another word.   
We passed traitors to their homeland and party before reaching Ultimate Sin.   
  
The sight made my stomach and heart lurch upward:   
The Devil sat encased in ice - with three heads and wings totaling six   
Forever beat at the frozen lake that kept him anchored.   
  
Though terrified, I managed "Who are these convicts?   
The ones whom this beast will eternally abuse?"   
"The worst of the betrayers - three despicable pricks.   
  
The central mouth - that's John Hoynes whose head is chewed.   
And then respectively in the left and the right   
Are Bob Rumson and Nathan Jessep - men without virtue."   
  
The path we continued on was a strenuous fight.   
We walked right up to the beast - to his very side.   
The climb up his flank was the next part of our plight.   
  
About midway in the climb I thought Bartlet had lied   
Because everything seemed to have turned.   
"Are we climbing BACK to Hell?" I asked of my guide.   
  
"Forget it." He said - not the least bit concerned,   
But I cleared my throat and waited for him to go on.   
"We reached the center where all was upturned.   
  
Now everything's good from where we've foregone.   
I have one last place where you I must lead:   
The House of the Sun and of the Sweet Dawn."   
  
"The last place? Then you'll be done with this deed?"   
I was not prepared for him to leave me so soon.   
"This is as far as I'm allowed to go on this journey."   
  
"What lays beyond us on the other side of the dune?"   
" 'Paradise' - I've been told, but never been sure."   
"What is the reason you're banned from this boon?"   
  
"Well, I'd be in Hell if I was bad or impure.   
But the reason is... I had MS and I didn't tell anyone.   
So no heaven nor Hell - instead I'm stuck as a guide as a kind of detour."   
  
Said he: "Toby, I always need a good head to tell me what should be done."   
"Thank you, Mr. President." With that I left for the paradise   
And he waved me off, "I should be thanking you, you damn son-of-a-gun!"   
  
I was absorbed with the scenery - so beautiful, so nice -   
That I barely heard someone call out my name.   
They shouted for me, ended up yelling out thrice.   
  
"Who is it?" I asked, fearing some sort of game.   
"Beatrice!" She laughed, "Beatrice, of course!"   
She showed herself then and a familiar face came.   
  
"CJ..." I whispered, identifying the voice's true source.   
"Oh come on Toby, don't be so quaint."   
I followed her then and we continued our discourse.   
  
We stopped at a gate that was devoid of all taint   
And through the bars were people I knew well.   
She saw my look, laughed, "Toby, although we're not always true saints..."   
  
"I don't understand. Everyone here - death has not yet befell."   
"No, of course not, not yet,   
But Heaven or Hell, our places aren't hard to foretell."   
  
I looked at my friend, tall and brunette.   
Then back through the gate, I watched from afar:   
Two blondes, my Deputy, and a Jew talking in quartet.   
  
We left then, she and I - walked out, to look at the stars.   
- - - - - - - - -   
"Mr. President, sir."   
"Yes Toby?"   
"I think we need to get the hell out of neutral."   
"Alright. Are you going to convince me?"   
"Yes sir." 


End file.
